She Who Knows Ten Thousand More
Jinora closed her eyes. Opened them. Her hands clutched at the neck of translucent blue, the wings silvery-blue, like painstakingly, fainted dyed glass, precious and cautious. Part of her bun felt loose to her, but there was no wind. Not now. Strands of hair tapped her face, and wisps flew coldly away from her neck, making her shudder. She was no stranger to heights—being an Airbender and a daughter of an Airbender had her soaring through the air on her glider or on Oogi, brushing the long, white hair of the gentle sky bison.
But she was no longer in control. Her Airbending—something so effortless and easy, something that she did without thinking, something that was even used carelessly—was gone. Her worst memory was not when the net pulled Oogi up, squealing and whimpering, while Dad tried to calm both her, Mom, and themselves; not when she lay in the dark cell without nothing but cold metal and the sound of Meelo and Ikki shouting through the walls; nor was it even when she saw Korra and Mako rush forward, not being able to warn them about Amon's plan. It was when she was roughly yanked from her cell, blindfolded, roughly bound with thick rope, and led to the pole, which would rise in time for Amon to reveal his prisoners. Just as she was shoved against the wooden pole, during a brief and fruitless struggle, a clenched hand pressed against her forehead for one instant, and her heart stilled. It was Amon, and he was going to take away everything—her heritage, her childhood, herself—but it wasn't. The fear made her still, and the person took advantage and roughly bound her to the upright post. The blindfold was whipped off, she saw the Equalist mask and her family nearby, in spots of saffron and yellow. There were no taunts, no key telling her what was going to happen to them, but she knew.
I'm fine, she told herself. It'll come back when I return. I'm fine.
She clutched the creature tighter. It was peculiar, like a gigantic bug, but it was gently descending now, as if it sensed her nervousness. The wings flapped slowly, the legs bowed on the ground—she had landed! She scrambled off, relieved to have something solid beneath her feet, but quickly turned to bow politely. It touched her forehead with an antennae, briefly, and she glimpsed a beautiful, lush green paradise with bright colors and a peek at a familiar Southern Water Tribe girl. Before she could even gasp, the spirit had left.
She looked at the empty place with rising eagerness and increasing panic. This is was the Spirit Library! Buried forever with endless knowledge! A tingle of a comforting scent brushed her nose—scrolls! Books! Crisp and fresh, musty and wrinkled, it did not matter. She felt the impulse to start pulling them down from the stone shelves and nearly eagerly danced at the thought of the soft crack and crinkle of a new book being opened. But what would she find? They certainly needed knowledge at this point, but her mind began to jumble full of lost texts and hidden words. It was a once in a lifetime chance!
Her feet began to move, and she was beginning to break out into a run when wind whipped her face and clothes, and the stone beneath her gave a sharp snap and rumble. Her toes were touching a jagged crack. Black wings filled her vision—black, huge, humongous wings! White flashed, a little yellow, but the expanse of darkness, like a shadow, made her startle and gasp. Training helped her keep her root, however, and she couldn't help feeling a bit proud.
She looked up, and her breath came out in a horrified shudder.
Her mind clicked, opened to an inky drawing and printed words, listened to solemn words, soft and filled with awe and respect and fear. The Knowledge Spirit.
"I am Wan Shi Tong, He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things." The owl peered down at her, raising his wings slightly, stern and arrogant with a soft lull that chilled her, somehow. "I knew your grandfather. Do you know me?"
Her voice surprised her. It was breathy and slightly shaking, but it was still clear, as if she were answering another one of Dad's test questions. "You're the Knowledge Spirit. Avatar Aang and his group went here to help and stop the Fire Nation—"
"Wrong." Imperious and cold, and she nearly jumped. "They used knowledge to gain for the defeat of others."
"The Fire Nation needed to be stopped." She protested, clenching her fists slightly, involuntarily, wishing for her staff. It would be of some comfort, however meager.
"That's what others say to justify their means to an end. That's what the Fire Nation soldier said when he stole a sacred scroll and burned a part of my library, endangering others and also his."
"Admiral Zhao." She immediately responded. Her answers were automatic, as if she were in school. "He threatened the balance by trying to kill the moon spirit."
"Humans control. They try to control. If they cannot, they destroy. The balance is then broken, but they claim it is fixed. As it is now."
"Yes." Her eyes flitted to the library, shelves and shelves of books. "That's why I'm here. My friends and I are trying to restore the balance. We know what's happened."
"You do not know. Jinora."
How did he know her name? Knowledge Spirit, she supposed dryly, but it was starling nevertheless. It gave her fear, an impulsive start, a stupid move.
"I may not know," she said. "But I'm trying to know."
"Are you?" The wings rose, and she looked at the sharp talons, the gripping feet. "If I allow you to browse freely, you will find a way, some way to benefit you."
"No." Her voice was now strangely calm, her feet still rooted in place. "I just want to save my family, my friends, my home. I'm sorry for my grandfather and others who have offended you. But I just want the people I love to be safe."
The beady black eyes appraised her. They seemed to narrow, then light up, as if in scornful amusement. Then, they focused wholly upon her, alone and small. They pierced her, and she wanted to stumble backwards, run.
"Your grandfather made the same excuse, and I buried this library, far into the Spirit World, to protect what I love: knowledge." The floor creaked ominously, and the girl looked cautiously at the widening crack, the talons curling and crunching the ground into rubble. "But you like knowledge, Jinora, don't you? You are a seeker of it. But you know nothing."
"I know stories and tales and history." She snapped back. She hated having her knowledge belittled, dismissed. It was something, a part of her, something that defined her even more than Airbending. Something, two things she loved. "People, places, things, and ideas. I may not be old enough to go out on my own, but if there's anything I know, it's knowledge." She leaned forward, nearly craning to look at him on her toes. "But I am still a kid, granted. I don't know everything yet, and I doubt you do."
The spirit did something terrifying—he laughed, short and harsh. "You dare speak to me in that manner? You challenge a Knowledge Spirit?"
Jinora's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed, and her feet stepped forward.
"Yeah," she said firmly. "I challenge you. And if I win, I get full access to the library and a safe return to my friends. And if I lose, I stay."
Wan Shi Tong's beak twitched, his eyes still unblinking, but there was a tinge of something, something like when an opponent saw her hand slide the Pai Shao tile across the polished, painted wooden board back at Air Temple Island. Jinora stared unflinchingly back at him, because she knew that look. It would be when her hand had whisked to fold in her lap neatly, her mouth opening to deliver the final blow: "Shao!"
The Knowledge Seeker nodded solemnly, slowly. "I accept your challenge, Jinora."